Six Elvenkings
by Elinde
Summary: Elu Thingol, Turgon, Orodreth, Oropher and Gil-Galad have assembled to help Amdir welcome his recently drowned son to the Undying Lands. However, mixing Oropher and Gil-Galad is like mixing flour dust and air; one spark and they're off!


**Disclaimer: none of the elvenkings belong to me –sad face- **

A/N: just an idea I'm running with. Warning of possible colloquialisms. I may edit it later but I want to get it published first... see what you guys think.

Hannon Tawarya for finding the Thingol/Turgon inaccuracy. As soon as you'd said that I thought 'agh, why did I write that?' 'Tis fixed now.

* * *

Gil-Galad straightened out his robes for the umpteenth time and preened his hair. Oropher glanced sideways at him reproachfully,

"Still trying to outdo me, then?"

Gil-Galad's hands dropped from his collar and he smiled winningly back, "Never fear, I'm not; I have outdone you so much that no matter what you do you'll never catch up."

"Is that so?" Oropher crooned, taking the bait. "Well as a matter of fact it is my opinion that my leadership skills far exceeded yours."

"Certainly your...ah... leadership style was _unique_; I don't think any of us came close to wiping out nigh on two thirds of our army out of obstinacy."

"That may be so, but I did not feel the need to stick 'High' in front of my title. That desire shows at best insecurity, and at worst complete and utter self-centredness."

A few yards behind them, Turgon looked up slowly from the game of chess he was engaged in, "They are kicking off again, meldir."

"So it would seem," Thingol replied, serenely, from the other side of the board. "Check."

Orodreth bit his knuckle as Oropher and Gil-Galad took a step towards each other.

"What was that?" Gil-Galad asked, warningly.

"I said that you are a self-centred fool who could never take it when others did not wish to bow down to your rule."

"No, I don't think you did; I think you have just now elaborated on your previous point to make yourself seem cleverer, which in turn shows a lack of security and a desire to impress your superiors."

Oropher cocked his head to one side, "Are you analysing me?"

Gil-Galad puffed out his chest, "So what if I am?"

"You may well be right, though," Oropher continued, "Perhaps all this is just pomp and circumstance designed to impress my superiors-" Gil-Galad grinned again but Oropher grinned wider "-and if that be the case then therefore I cannot possibly be showing off to _you._"

Gil-Galad's grin disappeared and was replaced by a scowl. "I refuse to be given such a lecture by a commoner."

"Commoner, is it?" Oropher exclaimed. Orodreth knelt down between the two opponents,

"Now might be a good time to intervene; Gil-Galad's played the 'common' card."

"Well volunteered," Thingol said, checkmating Turgon and leaning away from the board to gage the other's response. Turgon leant backwards too and looked over to the Second Age kings, who were now nose to nose and growling at each other.

"Hard to believe they're both a civilised as the Valar when apart, isn't it?" He commented.

"Mae, but which Valar?"

"Touché."

Orodreth shifted his weight onto his other leg, "They're going to start physically fighting soon! Remember what they were like when they first came here?"

"Well," Turgon said, slowly, "it took Thingol and me a while to settle our differences too."

"Mae," Thingol replied, "but it didn't take us _this _long."

He was interrupted by a sudden explosion from the three Elves before him and the brothers.

"I don't know how you can lecture me on good kingship when you ran ahead before orders!"

"You were holding back too long; the enemy had too much time to group. I was doing what I thought was best for my people."

"Oh yes! Because obviously you did the best thing; causing thousands of deaths and then dying yourself in your son's arms. How very considerate."

"At least I have a son whose arms I could die in! You seemed very lax as far as securing your realm's future was concerned."

"Mae, for I knew that Elrond would be able to rule after me. And what did you have to do? Leave yours in the hands of an Elf who spent three whole days lying on the floor of his tent-"

"He was grieving! What on Arda did you expect him to do?"

"Pick himself up like Elrond did."

"Oh, and Elrond wasn't distraught when Eärendil sailed, then?"

"Well of course he was but that's not 'like with like'."

"Not like with like? Both were grieving at the loss of a father, not as a king. I doubt that Thranduil gave a toss about me as his king-"

"So you're admitting you were inadequate for the job!"

"What? Where the hell did you get _that_ from?"

"Could the pair of you just give it a rest?" Amdír shouted for the first time, turning round from where he stood nervously in front of the other five. "My son has just drowned and we are all here to _welcome him_ so show some flipping respect!"

Oropher shut up, and even looked a little sheepish. Gil-Galad was quiet for a time but had to vent the anger he'd worked up against his favourite scratching post on something.

"What did he die of?" He asked, "He didn't die in battle, he wasn't poisoned!"

"He drowned in the Sea, swimming after Nimrodel," Amdír said, quietly. Oropher bowed his head.

"Well obviously this is terrible news, but why did he feel the need to swim after her?" Gil-Galad pressed, "I heard she left because she didn't love him. What kind of idiot would think swimming after her would make her love him? Surely the only possible outcome is the one that befell Amroth."

"You don't have a son so shut up!" Oropher shot back.

"Or a daughter," Thingol added. "The young do crazy things for love; but who are we, who have found those we love and are able to live in relative peace due to mere luck, to prevent them from going to the ends of Arda to secure their happiness?"

Gil-Galad rocked back and forth on his toes; now that the First Age kings were involved he wasn't so confident, and Oropher knew it. He smirked at Gil-Galad and Gil-Galad retorted, "And what's that face for? You can't sympathise; your son's still alive! Somehow," he added under his breath.

"Because of course knowing he's being tortured for forty years but having to sit back and watch someone else rescue him, then coming back from a scouting mission that went horribly wrong in the middle of a battle only to learn that _someone_ has told him you're dead, and then, to cap it all off, seem to see him drown in the Sea is a _piece of cake_."

Gil-Galad pursed his lips and there was a short silence, then, "Well you can't blame me for telling him that; I thought you _were_ dead-"

"This is true but you were mighty quick to tell the poor lad that."

"Stop arguing, children," Thingol said quietly yet heavily.

"Sorry, Sire," Oropher said.

"And don't call me 'Sire'."

"Sorry– sorry."

Looking at the Elves in front of them earnestly, Thingol and Turgon got up off the soft grass and stood attentively with the others.

A door appeared in the air before Amdír, which swung inwards and through it stepped a dazed Amroth. He stood in the lands of Westerness, gazing round and blinking in the sunlight. But then his gaze fell upon his father and he ran towards him and was enveloped in his arms.

"Welcome to the land beyond, ion-nín," Amdír said into his son's hair.

"You look a little damp, penneth," Gil-Galad said from a respectful distance.

"Well obviously; he has just drowned after all!" Oropher muttered, sarcastically, "You're as good as in suspended animation in the Halls of Waiting; go in wet and you come through to here wet."

"It has to be said you came through amazingly quickly," Thingol said, patting the Elf he'd never met in life on the back as though he was Amroth's uncle.

"Perhaps it was because Nimrodel is on her way here, and you swam out to reach her," Orodreth suggested.

"Wise words," Turgon praised.

Amroth turned and looked back through the door. The others followed his gaze. As the door slowly closed, they could see Amroth's funeral. Due to the lack of his body, the lords he was leaving behind were making do with personal possessions. Galadriel was speaking now; a breath-taking woman in black speaking to many other people in black. Oropher's grandson was there, on the verge of tears. Oropher found himself blinking rapidly as he watched the grandson he'd never met getting on with his life. Thranduil was there as well, glaring at Galadriel, which prevented the tears from spilling over Oropher's eyelids.

"Damn cheek!" Gil-Galad muttered, also looking at Oropher's son, "Lighting old feuds at a time like that."

"I don't mind," Amroth said, hurriedly. He sighed, "They'll be alright, won't they? The subjects I've left behind, I mean."

Amdír tousled his son's drying hair, "It will take time but this is not the end of Lothlórien."

"I hope Celeborn and Galadriel do take up rule as I asked," Amroth said, "I never made it official; I didn't think I'd die so soon."

"Well she's just said she and her husband will rule as lord and lady as best they can so-" Oropher informed them. They all watched as the door finally swung to on the scene and disappeared.

"That's sweet, though," Orodreth said half to himself, "that they aren't calling themselves king and queen because they don't feel it's appropriate."

"That _is_ a lovely gesture," Thingol, Turgon and even Oropher – who liked Galadriel no more than his son did – agreed. But something was ticking in Gil-Galad's mind. He stood as though frozen and this lack of movement gradually made the others look at him.

"If Celeborn and Galadriel aren't calling themselves king and queen... and Elrond and Círdan are lords already... the the reputation of the title of 'elvenking' rests just on Thranduil's shoulders..." He trailed off.

Oropher and Thingol couldn't help but double up laughing at Gil-Galad's now petrified expression.

_I Meth_


End file.
